


Silent Citadel

by lilium_elendir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Atmospheric, Gladnis, M/M, monster sex?, silent hill au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilium_elendir/pseuds/lilium_elendir
Summary: What haunts the halls of the Citadel in this cursed place?
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	Silent Citadel

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!

He laid in wait amongst the others, still and silent. His limbs were twisted at grotesque angles, but he was still capable of halting, disjointed movement. The little dress he wore barely covered his thighs, a mockery of his profession, as were the daggers in his fists. The heels of his shoes had long since broken, the bottoms stained red with the blood of his victims.

It had been some time since anything living had passed through these halls, a place that could only be described as _other_. He grew restless in his wait, though his companions were still. There weren’t many sounds as they laid in wait, the hellish landscape dormant.

But there was a sound that stood out over the dripping water. It could be felt before it was heard, a delightful scraping along his bones. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard the great sword dragging along the ground, it had been too long. And like his body, his mind was distorted and broken.

Ignis scuttled forward along the hall, the black and white marble coated in grime and rust. Ichor licked along the walls and pooled on the floor, inky and fluid. He left his companions behind, venturing to the furthest reaches of the area they were tethered to.

He couldn’t remember why, but he knew if he didn’t intersect the sword-dragger’s path, then he would simply pass him by. He could hear the scrape of metal on marble draw closer, and took position in the hall.

Ignis watched through the murk as there was a pause in the noise. Was he going to turn back? No, impossible. The man was bound to the rules of this place as surely as Ignis was. His head tipped at a precarious angle, straining to hear, until the man started to move again.

From around the corner, a metal point appeared. The sinister edge of an asymmetrical pyramid came into view. Something in Ignis’ chest jumped, an old familiar sensation that was now beyond his ability to understand. It happened faster and faster, as the man fully rounded the corner. 

The mythril pyramid sat atop broad shoulders. It must have been shiny at some point, but not even mythril could withstand the fetid decay of this place. An equally broad chest followed, the center obscured by the elongated front point of the pyramid.

Dirt and grime marred the man’s body, concealing an elaborate tattoo on his skin. Thick arms and large pectorals led down to a narrow waist and even thicker thighs. His legs were crisscrossed with ugly scars, his modesty covered by a dirty loin cloth. Ignis’ back straightened, his hands tightened on the daggers he could never put down.

A noise rumbled from the hulking man, the sound emanating from beneath the metal point hovering over his chest. It was an unintelligible noise, but like the sight of him had, the sound stirred something within Ignis. It was warm and familiar. Safe. 

Ignis took a few halting steps closer, he raised a fist to caress the long edge of the metal pyramid. He wondered what lay beneath it. The man reached up with his free hand to touch Ignis’ face. There was a flash of warm amber eyes from deep within Ignis’ memory and he mewled a pained noise. Gladio.

Gladio dropped the sword in his hand. The sound of metal hitting marble sent a spike of pleasure through Ignis’ gut, dispelling the moment of rich memory. Gladio reached for him, to embrace him, but Ignis was already turning. Even though Ignis couldn’t remember the details, they’d been here before.

Ignis hiked up the skirt of his short dress, baring his ass and uncovering his cock. Gladio grunted behind him, lifting his hand to touch the back of Ignis’ head and then trailing down his spine. Gladio tried to speak, but this place had stolen his voice long ago.

Ignis swiped at him with one of his daggers, impatient and eager for what he’d come for. Ichor coalesced between them, licking up their legs and under Gladio’s loin cloth. Coated in sticky black, Gladio pulled Ignis back onto his dick, penetrating him without warning. Mirthless laughter echoed along the hallway, though neither could comment on it.

Their coupling was manic. Every time Gladio thrust against the sweet spot inside Ignis, Ignis would contort and stab at his thighs, the only reaction he was capable of. Each blind stab of Ignis’ daggers was met with the harsh point of the pyramid drilled into his back. And so, they wounded each other, again and again. Gladio would have more scars, Ignis’ spine would become more twisted.

They fornicated to the amusement of their unseen master, and only when he grew bored were they allowed to climax, the ichor dripping away. Ignis staggered forward without looking back, dragging his skirt back into place. Each step away from Gladio was a return to this _other_ place. It reclaimed him, stripping Ignis of whatever shred of humanity he had left, molding him into something foreign and unrecognizable. Stealing his memory away. Until Ignis was back amongst his companions, still and waiting for their next victim.

Back in the hallway, Gladio’s breath was muffled through the metal of his mask. He wanted to scream, but it was a noise he could no longer make. He wanted to chase after Ignis, but it was a path he couldn’t take. It was futile. All he could do was bend down and lift the handle of his sword, and continue dragging it along these forsaken halls.

He’d avoid this one for as long as he could again. Until he was forced to turn. It hurt. It hurt too much to see the thing this place had turned Ignis into. It hurt to see the brief flashes of memory in those green eyes, still beautiful despite it all. It hurt to touch Ignis intimately, familiar but distorted.

So, his own memory intact, Gladio dragged his sword away from Ignis, and would stay away for as long as he was allowed. It was the last dignity he could provide his partner.


End file.
